Volume
Nine
Chapter
Ten
Traveling
Companions
In which Dodger eases on down the road
The
company made good time, reaching the Blood Lands within the hour. The area was
aptly named, consisting of mostly huge dunes of red dirt, and little else. Once
inside the borders, Sir Rodger recommended they traveled on a few more miles,
lowering the chances of Gimlet following them once and for all. Dodger was
forced to agree, though he began to wonder when they would need to bed down,
considering no one save the knight had slept that night. Not that Dodger was
the slightest bit weary. In fact, he felt better than he had in years. Younger,
stronger, more clear of mind. Now, if he could just shake this burning need to
cut and run from the group, quell this desire to find some trouble of his own
to get into.
Mount
Doom made her appearance just after sunrise
the next morning. The mountaintop peeked just out of the misty curls of fog
still a good fifty miles or more away. The travelers took her appearance as a
good omen, as well as a sign of a much needed break. They set up a temporary
camp at the bottom of a small slope. Sarah prepared an impromptu meal while the
knight readied a cook fire from kindling he had the foresight to bring from the
forest. Lelanea wandered away from the others, obviously in need of a moment of
privacy. Dodger gave her a few minutes alone before he sidled up to her,
seeking a little powwow.
“Are
you tired?” he asked.
“Not
as such,” Lelanea whispered. “You?”
“Strangely
enough, no. We keep walking and walking, but I don’t feel like I’ve done more
than taken a pleasant stroll.”
“It
must be something to do with this being a dream.”
“Makes
as much sense as anything else, I suppose.”
She
glanced back at the knight and princess. “I wonder if the other two will need
to stop and sleep. They seem lively enough.”
“Well,
it is her dream. Did you ever dream about sleeping when you were a kid?”
“Not
that I can remember, but that was a long time ago.”
Dodger
decided it best to leave that window alone, opting not to hand a retort for
fear of the teeth waiting on the other side. “I wonder when Boon will be back.”
“Unfortunately,
I have a feeling he’s back already and just lost.”
“Is
that so?” Dodger snorted a laugh. “You don’t sound like you have much
confidence in your man’s abilities.”
“I
have confidence in the abilities that are important. His sense of direction,
however, is not one of them.”
“Not
to worry. If he is here, he’ll find us.”
As
if waiting for Dodger to announce his presence Boon shouted, “Hey there!” He jogged
down the slope to join them.
“Where
have you been?” Lelanea asked.
“Showed
up about two miles that way,” Boon said, motioning back up the hill. “I was worried
I had missed you completely.”
“So
were we.”
“I’m
glad you managed to find us,” Dodger said. “What did the doc think about-”
“Hello
friend,” Sir Rodger said as he joined the group. “I was beginning to worry we
wouldn’t see you again.”
Dodger
bit his tongue in front of the knight. Great. Now they couldn’t directly
discuss Boon’s interaction with the doc. Dodger supposed it was time for a
little bit of old fashioned double talk.
“Where
did you get off to?” the knight asked.
“He
has been scrying,” Lelanea said.
“I
have?” Boon asked. “Oh, yeah. I have. I guess.”
Sir
Rodger considered the excuse a moment, then asked. “Do you mind if I ask what
were you crying over?”
“I
wasn’t crying,” Boon said. “I was doing that thing she said I was doing.”
The
knight tutted Boon into silence. “There is no shame in tears, Mr. Boon. I have
spent many an hour weeping over some unfortunate event.”
“He
wasn’t crying, Sir Rodger,” Lelanea said. “He was scrying.”
“What
is scrying?” Sarah asked as she left her stew pot and wandered over.
The
knight and child looked to boon for an explanation.
“Yeah,
Boon,” Dodger said, enjoying the man’s discomfort. “Tell us all about scrying.”
“Oh,
um, yeah well … it’s like looking into the future?”
“So
much like it,” Lelanea said, “that it is, in fact, exactly that.”
Sarah’s
eyes lit with wonder. “Can you show me how to do it?”
“No,”
Lelanea said. “He can’t. It is a very dangerous spell, and takes a lot of time
to perform.”
“How
much time passed while you worked your magic?” Dodger asked, hoping Boon would
get the true gist of the question.
Boon
stared at him for a moment before he raised his eyebrows in understanding. “Ah,
yeah, it’s only been a little over an hour. I mean took. It only took a little
over an hour.”
“Over
an hour,” the knight said. “I hope it was time well spent.”
“I
was worried it took much longer,” Dodger said.
“Were
the results of your scrying favorable?” Lelanea asked.
Boon
stared at her, then looked back to Dodger. He shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Then
the Fates agree with our current course?” Lelanea asked.
The
big blond furrowed his brow and puffed his cheeks out, obviously unsure what
she was asking.
Dodger
cleared his throat. “Surely they did. It doesn’t take a doctor or a mystic to
realize we should help the princess rescue her brother.” Dodger stressed the
occupations of the two men, praying that even Boon wasn’t daft enough to miss a
clue that big.
It
took him a few seconds, but soon he nodded his understanding. “Why yes. Yes the
fates agreed we are taking the proper course of action.
“Splendid,”
the knight said. “This is pleasant news indeed. To know the Fates are on our
side.”
“Yeah,
they were all about the rescue. The Fates’ butler had his own opinion.”
Sir
Rodger clapped Boon on the back and laughed. “You are such a jester!”
“I
must confess,” Sarah said. “I thought you had abandoned us.”
“No,
never,” Boon said. “I won’t leave you, Sarah. I’m here, till the end.”
“As
am I,” Sir Rodger said.
“And
I,” Lelanea said.
The
group fell quiet as they turned, as one, to Dodger.
“What?”
Dodger asked. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He walked away from them, stepping toward
the steaming stew pot. “What’s for food?”
Rather
than argue with him, the others chuckled at his dour attitude and joined him at
the campfire. They joked and quipped about his grumpiness, blaming hunger and
fatigue for his ill mood. In truth, Dodger had no idea why he couldn’t bring
himself to pledge his services to the child. Perhaps it was that villain at
heart, trying to work its way to the surface that kept him from promising her
his guns. Or maybe he just didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep. With
her till the end? He reckoned it all depended on what ‘the end’ consists of in
this context; the end of her dream or the end of her life. There was no way to
tell, and no way was Dodger willing to place a bet.
Food
turned out to be rabbit stew, a favorite of Dodger’s. Sarah made enough for
everyone to have their fill, with Dodger just about licking the pot clean.
Dream food, he decided, was just about better than Feng’s cooking. And that was
saying a mighty lot. Once sated, the group got back on the road, traveling ever
forward toward the towering peak in the distance. But that distance, it seemed,
was more subjective than Dodger expected. He swore the thing was fifty miles
off just an hour ago, but before he knew it, they were almost atop the accursed
thing.
“Nearly
there,” Sir Rodger said. “We should make Liar’s Bridge at the foot of the
mountain before sunset.”
“That’s
strange,” Boon said. “I feel like it was much farther away this morning.”
“Things
are always more daunting on an empty stomach.”
“I
reckon so.”
“At
this rate we will reach the top of the mountain in another day,” Lelanea said.
“Perhaps,”
Sir Rodger said. “Let us not be too optimistic.”
“Tell
us more about Poison
Peak,” Dodger said.
“Certainly,”
the knight said. “What is it you would like to know?”
“What
is it like? Will we be able to infiltrate it easily?”
“What
kind of tricks can we expect from the Evil One?” Boon said.
“Where
is the Prince held, specifically?” Lelanea asked.
“Whoa,”
Sir Rodger said. “I possess but one tongue, friends. I can only answer one
question at a time.”
“Of
course,” Lelanea said. “In your own time, Sir Rodger.”
Sir
Rodger cleared his throat, as if readying himself for an epic tale.
With
a sigh, Dodger settled in for another dramatic moment from the knight. Dodger
hated melodrama. For him, such performances were like walking through a
blizzard in the nude; impractical, pointless, and more often than not left you
with one hell of a cold shoulder when you were done.
Surprisingly
enough, the knight kept his descriptions short, recounting Poison Peak
as a fort like structure on a lonely outcropping of rock atop Mount Doom.
The fort consisted of a twenty foot stone wall protecting a large hall in which
the Prince was most likely held. Sir Rodger described the Evil One as an unholy
abomination, half man, half hound of hell. Eight solid feet of muscle, fur and
teeth, with flames for eyes, sulfuric breath and the strength as well as roar
of a dragon. Dodger wasn’t surprised that Rex was such a vicious and powerful
creature in the child’s dream. The thing may have been a little doggy in real
life, but the havoc he wreaked was of nightmarish proportions.
“Who
else will be there?” Dodger asked. “I know you say this Evil One is, well, evil,
but I doubt he is alone.”
“You
are correct, sir,” Sir Rodger said. “He will not be alone. I suspect there
shall be all manner of vile villain. Outlaws and criminals from every corner of
the land gather at Mount
Doom. Poison Peak
is a lodestone for the most wretched and foulest of foes. Which is how it
gained its moniker, for it is a very poisonous place.”
“What
is our plan of attack? Sneaking up on the wall and scaling it under the cover
of darkness? That sort of thing?”
Sir
Rodger wrinkled his nose, as if he had never smelled a fouler plan. “No sir.
There is no honor in such a plan. I intend to walk right up to the fort, knock
on the door and state my demands. If the Evil One knows what is good for him,
he will return the Prince to my care.”
“You’re
kidding.” Dodger hooked a thumb in Sir Rodger’s direction as he said, “Lelanea,
please tell me this man is joking.”
“Sir
Rodger,” Lelanea said. “As honorable as that sounds, I doubt the Evil One will
deal so lightly with the likes of us.”
“I
realize that, m’lady,” Sir Rodger said.
“Then
what do you plan to do when he refuses your demands?” Dodger asked.
Sir
Rodger smiled at Dodger. “We shall cross that bridge when we arrive at it.”
“Speaking
of bridges,” Boon said and motioned to the trail ahead, which was no longer so
much a trail as a curled fist of iron and wood.
“I
take it that’s Liar’s Bridge?” Dodger asked.
“It
was,” Sir Rodger said.
A
huge ravine crossed the travelers’ path, stretching in both directions as far
as the eye could see. It was a good hundred feet or more in width, making it
impossible to leap. The chasm reached so deep into the earth that Dodger
couldn’t see anything below save for black emptiness, removing the opportunity
to quickly climb down and back up again. On both sides there sat the remnants
of what used to be a bridge. It was as though someone tore the bridge apart in
the middle and pushed it away, in opposite directions, leaving the metal and
wood curled back over itself. The end result looked very much like the claw of some
great beast reaching out of the gulch, seeking some tender morsel to drag down
to the pits of hell.
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